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Ace decided very early on that he didn’t need a soulmate.
The whole concept was just too weird. You got a mark somewhere on your body that represented the other person, and they’d get one that represented you in the same spot, and then you were meant to be? Or at least meant to be best friends?
How the hell was that even supposed to work? How would you know you had the right person? And why would you like someone just because of a stupid mark?
Some people never even got a soulmate mark, or they only got them way late in their life. Sure, you could have it at five, but you could also get it at 63. What if you just assumed you’d never have a soulmate and married someone else?
How did people even know what the marks were for? They just appeared. They could symbolize your worst enemy or the one who would kill you or whatever.
No, Ace definitely didn’t want one.
And it had absolutely nothing to do with being afraid of his soulmate rejecting him because of his heritage! Ace was never afraid, of nothing!
He was still a kid, so adults would smile and tell him to be patient a little longer if he told them he just didn’t have a soulmate so he’d never get a mark, but he was sure. After all, he was the child of a demon. Demons didn’t have soulmates.
(He hadn’t asked Gramps if his parents had been soulmates. He didn’t want to know.)
Sabo didn’t have a mark yet, either, and he agreed with Ace that it was all stupid. They were best friends, and they wouldn’t let any dumb marks get in the way of that, ever.
They were fine like that, with just the two of them, until Luffy stumbled – or rather forced himself – into their lives and their bond.
Luffy was… a lot, in every conceivable way, and his mark was no different. Or rather, his marks. Plural. He had them all over. Some were really simple, like the blue star on his left arm, or the spiral with a heart in the middle on his stomach, while others were way more complex, like the newest one, a compass rose that instead of the four directions had a tangerine, a pinwheel, a berry sign and a thundercloud. It sat on his right shoulder. Not far from it, at the back of his neck, were two crossed arms, one holding a black cube and the other a red one. His favourite was the one right below his throat, depicting a whale on some waves, with musical notes above it, because he insisted it meant one of his soulmates would be a singing whale.
Despite the mass of marks, Luffy claimed he’d get more – at least ten, one for each member of his future crew that would help him become pirate king.
Ace laughed the first time he heard it, but as they became brothers and spent more and more time together, he started to believe it a little. Luffy was special, and if he wanted fate to work like this, it would.
Indeed, about three months into their brotherhood, Luffy started to glow all over in the middle of their daily fights, and for a moment it looked like glowing fish swam all over his body, until they settled on his right ankle, swimming in a circle around a stylized sun.
Luffy was so excited about it, running to show it to Ace and Sabo, and then Dadan and the bandits, he even forgot the rest of his fights that day.
It felt weird, to see his little brother so genuinely and innocently excited over something Ace had always deemed unnecessary and unattainable.
He knew. He knew it wasn’t for him, it would never work out, but now for the first time it felt like he was missing out on something incredible, and it hurt. No matter what, even if he did get a mark eventually, he knew he could never feel like that. He’d always be stuck with the knowledge it wouldn’t work out.
Ace looked over to Sabo to see something similar reflected in his eyes.
Without a word, they grabbed their pipes and set to complete the extra fights they had now that Luffy had forfeited all of his turns.
It was better not to talk about it. Not to think about it.
They could just forget about it. Luffy could talk to the adults who already had their marks and knew their soulmates, and they could pretend nothing happened until the next mark appeared on Luffy.
It was a perfect plan, but fate hated Ace, so of course the plan failed like five days later.
He was sleeping peacefully, tired after a long day of hunting and fighting and stealing treasure, until he was rudely awoken by water being splashed over him.
“What the fuck?” Ace jolted upright, looking right into Sabo’s face, who was looking strangely terrified as he was still holding the bucket of water he just emptied all over Ace. “What do you think you’re doing?” He better be terrified of Ace, because he did not appreciate this. At all.
“You’re on fire!”
Huh?
Ace looked down at himself and, yeah. He was on fire. Blue fire.
Panic surged in his chest for a moment, but it subsided as quickly as it had appeared. The fire wasn’t burning him. It didn’t hurt at all.
No, it felt completely different than anything Ace had ever felt. It was warm, and gentle, and it wrapped itself around him like a hug. In that moment, all tension fell off Ace’ body all at once, and he simply felt safe. Accepted. At peace with himself and the world.
It lasted until the fire slowly started to retract itself, concentrating in the palm of his right hand, until it extinguished itself and Ace was blinking into complete darkness.
“Ace! You got your soul mark,” Luffy cheered as Ace’ stomach sunk.
He’d wanted to avoid this. His soulmate… they were supposed to make Ace feel like he just had, was that it? Was that how people knew it was a good thing? But Ace’ soulmate wouldn’t want him, so that feeling would never truly exist except as an empty promise by a cruel fate.
Ace would rather not think about this any further and just go back to sleep, but Sabo uncaringly lit a lamp, holding it straight over Ace’ palm.
Ace furrowed his brows at the picture. “What’s that?”
“A bird,” Luffy supplied, and Ace hit him over the head for the pointless observation.
“I can see that, moron! But why is it on fire?” The bird didn’t look like any bird Ace had ever seen. And what the hell was that supposed to mean, anyway? His soulmate was definitely not a bird. That would be stupid, just as stupid as the singing whale idea.
“I think it’s a phoenix.” Sabo’s words were only met with clueless silence from his brothers. “It’s a mythical animal, and if it dies, it goes up in flames and is reborn again. There’s a bunch of stories about it, like its tears are supposed to have healing properties and such, but I have no idea if any of that is true or if it’s just stories.”
Great, so his soulmate was fictional like this stupid bird. Non-existent. What a joke.
“That’s so cool!” Luffy’s eyes were sparkling. “That means you can go on a great adventure to find the bird and then be its friend! I bet it’s on the Grand Line somewhere!”
Ace pushed him off. “I don’t want to be friends with some stupid bird.” He didn’t want a soulmate, bird or human, and he certainly wouldn’t spend his life chasing some stupid legend some drunken conman had come up with centuries ago. He had more important things to do. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”
There was a pout on Luffy’s face, while Sabo was looking worried, but both of them relented under Ace’ glare. Sabo extinguished the flame of their oil lamp, and darkness once again fell over their treehouse.
Luffy was asleep a minute later, and eventually, Sabo’s breathing evened out as well.
Only Ace stayed awake, thoughts swirling as his hand kept tingling to remind him of that soulmate he had, somewhere out there. Probably. Maybe.
It had dimmed a lot, but that warm feeling was still there, burning faintly in the background.
It gave him a tiny spark of hope, and Ace resented it for that.
As the sun rose the next morning, Ace hadn’t slept at all, and he made sure Sabo and Luffy didn’t ask any questions about his sour mood. He just went into Edge Town by himself and got a nice pair of fingerless gloves so he wouldn’t have to look at the phoenix anymore, and none of the adults would ask him any questions either. He didn’t need a talk from Dadan, and he definitely didn’t need a talk from Gramps whenever he decided to show back up.
It didn’t really end up mattering, because the next time Gramps visited, Sabo was dead without having ever gotten his own mark, but Ace kept wearing the gloves regardless.
He pushed his soulmate to the back of his mind. He couldn’t think of a maybe like that. He had to focus on the now. Luffy needed him as his older brother, so Ace would do everything he could to fulfil that role.
He would live his life without regrets, and he didn’t need a soulmate for that.
When Luffy smiled bright and happy another few months later as three crossed swords appeared on the back of his right hand, Ace smiled as well.
Ace would choose himself what mattered. If Luffy chose to care about his marks, that was great, as long as he was happy. Ace simply put other marks on himself, getting Sabo’s jolly roger and his own name tattooed, getting himself a funky hat and stealing one of Dadan’s necklaces before he set out.
Those were the people that mattered, and he’d show the world. The soul mark could stay hidden beneath the glove forever.
Fate hated Ace. This world hated Ace.
That was okay. He’d show everyone who exactly he was. His name would be known across all the Blues and the Grand Line, and it would be only for the things he wanted it to.
That was his resolve.
When Marco was a little child, he’d often daydream about having a soulmate. It sounded so fantastic, to have someone you could share everything with, someone who would be at your side at all times, through anything and everything, someone who could make you laugh even in the darkest of moments.
Pops always humoured him, even if he didn’t have a soulmate himself. They imagined together what the mark would look like, where it would be, and what kind of person Marco’s soulmate would be.
When Marco hit 30, there was still no soul mark on his body.
He’d started wondering if it would ever happen a few years ago, but the thought of it didn’t bother him as much as he thought he would.
He already wore Pops’ mark on his chest, and he had a family that he could share everything with, who stuck with him no matter what, and there was always someone there to make him smile when he was feeling down.
It wasn’t the fated, romantic connection he’d dreamed of as a kid, but it made him happy, and that was what mattered.
But life as a New World pirate always had its ways of surprising you.
One night, when Marco was 33 and partying with his family, suddenly everyone gasped and shouted around him. “Marco, you’re on fire! Put that out!”
For a second, Marco blinked in confusion, then he looked at himself and confirmed that they were right. He was on fire.
“I’m not doing anything,” he calmly informed his family, “this isn’t my devil fruit powers, so I can’t turn it off.” Casually, he took another sip of sake. So what if he was on fire? It wasn’t spreading, and it didn’t hurt him, either. No need to panic.
Was he drunk? Maybe a little bit.
The fire felt nice, though. Nothing like his own. It was hot, but not painfully so, and it filled him with an energy he couldn’t quite describe. Drive. Spirit. Passion. Ambition. This fire could burn down the world or turn night time into daylight. It was an unstoppable force and Marco felt a giddy excitement bubbling up at the mere prospect of being swept along with it.
It was a moment of pure bliss, but then the fire retracted itself, swirling around Marco’s arm before settling in his right palm, sinking into the skin.
Marco looked down at his hand to see a ring of fire marking his hand, and inside of it were two symbols of a happy and a sad expression.
His soul mark.
He did have a soulmate somewhere out there. Marco couldn’t help but smile. Sure, he had his family, but adding a soulmate to that would only make it even better. Honestly, he couldn’t wait to meet them.
Of course, he was immediately surrounded by his curious siblings all looking at the freshly formed mark and bombarding him with questions. As if Marco had any answers. This mark didn’t really remind him of anyone he knew, so it was probably someone he hadn’t met yet.
Pops eventually had to pull him out of the crowd, and Marco smiled gratefully up at his father.
“I’m happy for you,” Pops said, “I’m sure you’ll find them soon now that you have their mark.”
“I don’t mind waiting. I’m just glad to know they exist at all. The rest is gonna work out somehow.”
Pops ruffled his hair. “If you say so. But if they don’t treat you well, I’ll throw them overboard.”
Marco only huffed in response. He knew Pops was serious, because he’d thrown Thatch out into the open sea without missing a beat when he and Izou had gotten off on the wrong foot. Izou had been just as much at fault as Thatch, but Pops always supported his kids regardless of what they did. Thankfully, someone had taken pity on Thatch all those years ago, so now he was still alive and very happy with Izou.
Honestly, Marco was a chill guy usually, so he couldn’t imagine something like that happening to his own soulmate.
He really was fine waiting, but that didn’t stop him from laying awake that night and many more over the following years, wondering what his mark meant.
Fire could mean a variety of things, and just the sensation Marco had gotten with the mark made him think it was likely something like passion. It could be quite a few other things too, though. It could be a reference to the person working for a travelling circus. It could mean they’d been trapped by fire at some point. There were just so many options, it was hard for Marco to reach any conclusion.
The two expressions left him even more puzzled, though. Did they mean his soulmate was an expressive person who showed emotions easily? Did it mean they had great joy and great sadness in their life? Or was it a reference to the masks of comedy and tragedy in theatre and his soulmate was an actor? None of it really made any sense to Marco.
He couldn’t help but wonder what mark his soulmate wore, and if they laid awake at night as well, trying to figure out what kind of person he was from it.
He kind of hoped they did, but for eight years, he received no news.
No amount of speculating could’ve ever prepared him for how literal the mark was.
Portgas D. Ace was a blazing inferno the first time Marco saw him, spitting flames at Pops even as he created a ring of fire around them to make sure his crew could get away safely. The two expressions sat atop his hat for the world to see, and as Pops offered him a place on the crew, Marco could feel more than a few pairs of eyes on him.
He wasn’t the only one who instantly made the connection.
Great.
Ace turned the invitation down and attacked Pops again, so Pops just knocked him out.
Now those stares were definitely turning to pity. Next to him, Izou just chuckled. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a little spitfire as a soulmate. I’m sure this will turn out fun.”
Fun for Izou, yeah.
Marco wasn’t exactly feeling the fun as he patched Ace up, healing broken ribs and deep wounds. He couldn’t help but notice that Ace was wearing fingerless gloves that perfectly covered his palms, even though he’d only worn loose shorts and an open shirt.
This wasn’t for warmth, and a logia who didn’t use weapons didn’t really need them for anything else, either. It was pretty obviously to cover up the soul mark that had to be on his right palm.
Even though he was curious, Marco didn’t look. If Ace wanted to hide it, that was his choice.
Marco simply treated him as well as he could, then left him alone in the infirmary. His brain was kicking into overdrive. Had Ace known Marco was here and attacked anyway? Or was he just a clueless rookie? It was hard to admit this shortly after finally meeting his soulmate, but all signs pointed to Ace simply not caring about the whole thing, or perhaps even resenting the idea.
He wouldn’t be the only one with that attitude to soulmates, and Marco couldn’t blame him for it, but it drove a spear of disappointment straight into his heart anyway.
Well, so much for his childish dreams.
Good thing he still had his family, he’d be fine as long as he had them.
He could watch Pops throw Ace overboard over and over again completely unrelated to the promise he’d made to Marco eight years ago, and keep his face impassive as Ace very pointedly ignored his existence.
Just like any physical injury, Marco could brush over it.
It still hurt, though.
Ace woke up with his lungs hurting. Again. The last thing he remembered was being thrown overboard by Whitebeard, but as usual, they hadn’t just let him drown.
At this point, Ace would welcome it. Absolutely nothing was going right, and he couldn’t see any way to get out of this stupid situation.
He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t admit defeat. A loss was unacceptable. Whitebeard had been that man’s rival, so losing to him would be like losing to his father, and that just couldn’t happen.
Ace would rather die than be stuck in Roger’s shadow forever due to his own weakness.
But the truth was that he couldn’t win, either. All those fights, and Ace had never even managed to get a scratch on that old man. He was hopelessly outclassed.
It didn’t help that his crew got along so well with Whitebeard’s.
It helped even less that Marco’s eyes quietly followed him everywhere.
Why the hell did his soulmate have to be here? Why did he actually have to exist? Ace could hide his mark all he wanted, but everyone had figured it out anyway since Marco just walked around with his out in the open. Granted, Ace hadn’t paid attention to anyone’s palms – he’d learned a while ago to look everywhere but there – but he’d seen Marco transform into the exact bird depicted on his palm. After that, Ace just had to confirm it, and it wasn’t hard to spot the ring of fire and the damn faces from his hat.
Ace had half a mind to just rip them off, but it was way too late for that now.
Whitebeard knew, the whole crew knew, and most importantly, Marco knew.
Nobody had directly said anything yet, but that pompadour guy who insisted on feeding Ace every day had hinted at it very clearly.
That was probably why he wasn’t dead yet despite his continued assassination attempts, nobody wanted to kill Marco’s soulmate while he was watching.
Not that Marco ever did anything but watch. Ace had to wonder what he saw. It had to be disappointment, right? Just a weakling and an idiot who could never back down even when it was obvious he lost. Not someone you’d want as your soulmate.
Ace had been prepared for this moment ever since he got the mark, but it still stung.
Just like he figured as a kid, the whole thing was stupid, and it would never work out for him. It was only making this already shitty situation worse.
He had half a mind to just ignore the whole thing until Whitebeard accidentally hit him too hard one time, but that felt like running away. He couldn’t just let this stand. He didn’t need anyone’s pity just for a stupid mark on his hand.
So, the next time Ace spotted Marco just watching him, he glared straight back. While they weren’t the only people on deck, nobody was in Marco’s immediate vicinity, so Ace simply stood up and stalked over to him. “Can you stop staring at me all the time? Just because we’re soulmates doesn’t mean it’s not creepy!”
Marco looked stunned, blinking at him wordlessly for a second. “So your mark really does match mine? I figured, but I didn’t want to look without your consent.”
What the hell? Why did he sound like he was trying to be considerate? His captain had essentially kidnapped Ace, and he claimed to care about consent about some tiny detail like taking off a glove?
Stop, Ace couldn’t let himself get distracted. He was here to say something, not to actually hold a conversation and get to know Marco. There was no need for Ace to understand him.
“Yeah, yeah, they match. It’s not like everyone here doesn’t know, right? Your mark isn’t exactly subtle.”
“I guess it’s pretty straightforward,” Marco agreed, “but it’s fitting, isn’t it? You seem like a pretty straightforward guy to me.”
“That’s not the point! It’s inconvenient! Tell your captain to stop holding back on me just because I’m your soulmate! I want him to fight me seriously!”
“He’s already beating you up pretty badly though? In case you still haven’t realized, I’m this ship’s main doctor, I’m the one who gets to patch you back up while you’re unconscious, so I know. Me healing you is the only reason you can even stand right now.” What? Talking all big about consent and then he touched Ace while he was unconscious? No, wait, Ace was getting distracted from his goal again. “If you want him to actually kill you, tough luck. Pops likes rookies like you, he wouldn’t kill you even if you weren’t my soulmate.”
“He likes people who try to kill him?” Okay, yeah, definitely off-topic now, but what the hell.
Marco grinned. “Yeah. Almost nobody has the courage to try these days, so he’s bored. Guess those are the kinds of problems you have when you’re the strongest man in the world.”
Something about that casual tone infuriated Ace. “I’m trying to kill him for real! Doesn’t that piss you off? Treat me like your enemy, goddammit! I haven’t done anything that would warrant you all being nice to me, so stop with that shit! I don’t need special treatment because of some stupid soulmate mark!”
“Pops likes you. That’s enough for us. We all trust his judgement above anything else. Way more than fate or whatever. As long as he wants you on this crew, we’ll treat you like a future member. I mean, his recruiting methods aren’t exactly… conventional, but we’re all here, so…”
“As if you don’t care about soulmate marks! Everyone does!”
There was no way these people actually liked him. Ace had very much tried to get them to hate him, they’d be stupid to care about him. It was just the mark. It had to be.
“Sure, some people-” Marco said, indicating he was thinking of someone very specific “-absolutely love the fact they can use your daily adventures to tease me now. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care about you being my soulmate, but if you’re uncomfortable with the concept, there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t want to force you into anything.”
“You’re forcing me to stay on this damn ship!”
Marco sighed, and somehow, for some reason, Ace didn’t like the look in his eyes. Was he upset? Resigned? Disappointed? And why the fuck did Ace even care?
“If you truly want to leave, we’ll reach land in about three days if everything goes vaguely as planned. You can get off, and you can take your crew with you; I doubt they’ll want to leave you by yourself. Pops will be sad he missed out on having you as his son, but he’ll get over it.”
As if. As if Whitebeard wanted him as a son. As if Marco wanted him as his soulmate.
“I’m nobody’s son. And I’m nobody’s soulmate, either!”
Ace turned on his heel a second later, stalking away again.
Stupid Marco. He had no business looking like a kicked puppy! And Ace didn’t care about it either way! He just had to get through the next three days somehow, then he could leave all this behind.
Three days turned out to be an awfully long time, though.
A time full of more failed attempts to somehow kill Whitebeard while the old man just kept repeating his offer to have Ace join, full of more quiet looks from Marco, and full of disapproving looks from Deuce.
Marco had been right that his crew unanimously decided to leave with him, but none of them had looked all that happy with his choice.
“You’re just running away, aren’t you? That’s not like you.”
Deuce’ words rang true even as Ace denied them. So, he decided to fuck it. He’d just go to Whitebeard, tell him he was Roger’s son, and then he’d either finally decide to kill Ace or at least chase him off the ship, and nobody could blame Ace anymore. Perfect plan.
Except, Ace’ plans never went as expected. Never. And this was no exception.
Whitebeard simply smiled at him and told him that wasn’t important. “We’re all children of the sea. Who your biological parents are doesn’t matter. You’re nothing like Roger, anyway.”
Ace couldn’t process it.
Out of all the people in the world, he’d never expected Whitebeard to be one of the few who wouldn’t care about his heritage.
This was a problem. A huge problem.
Now Ace didn’t want to leave anymore. All of a sudden, the feeling he’d expertly repressed all this time bubbled to the surface. He wanted to stay. He wanted Whitebeard to be his father, and his crew to be his family. It was absolutely terrifying.
Sadly, Whitebeard didn’t seem to pick up on his feelings on the matter. “If that was your only concern, then you can become my son! Or my son-in-law, if that’s what you’d prefer.” He actually winked at Ace, making him cringe.
Ace was pretty sure he’d already fucked up any chance he had with Marco, if indeed he ever had one to begin with.
He hadn’t even processed the possibility of having a father yet, how was he supposed to know if he wanted a soulmate? If he admitted to wanting it and got turned down, wouldn’t it only hurt more?
Ace swallowed. That was exactly what he’d done to Marco.
Shit.
All his life he’d been afraid of his soulmate not wanting him, and out of fear he’d told his soulmate he didn’t want him.
Maybe the soulmate system was still stupid, but damn, Ace was stupid as well.
He had to talk to Marco. Not that he knew what he’d say, but he just had to.
Marco sighed for the umpteenth time that day.
He was currently hiding in Izou’s room to do his paperwork. It was a great place to hide because everyone knew not to bother him except for an emergency when he was in here, and Izou was his best friend, he’d never kick him out. It was also a terrible place to hide, because it left him under constant scrutiny from Izou, who knew him way too well.
“Just go talk to him again.”
“No.”
Izou groaned, clearly fed up, and Marco was tempted to do the same just to annoy him.
“Why not? We’re at the port already. He can leave right after. You won’t have to talk to him again if he leaves, so you’ve got nothing to lose.”
Marco realized the report he’d been trying to write was mostly just gibberish, so he crumpled up the paper as if that would help with his frustration somehow. “We’ve already talked. He told me he wants to leave, and he doesn’t want to be mine or anyone’s soulmate. Maybe he has some underlying issues to make him feel that way, but how would I know? We’re basically strangers. This picture on my hand doesn’t make me qualified to solve or even understand all his problems. I can only go by what he says, and he wasn’t unclear at all.”
Izou clicked his tongue. Both of them knew Marco wanted to go and ask Ace to stay, to give him a chance, but it was hard to argue with Marco’s logic, even for himself.
Maybe both of them believed soulmates defied logic, but they couldn’t exactly force that viewpoint on Ace, now could they? It wasn’t likely to make him like Marco more, it would only drive him further away.
At this point, all Marco had left was a tiny sliver of hope that Ace would grow and change on his journey and eventually come back to try again, but Marco knew he was clasping at straws here. He just wouldn’t ever get to experience the kind of soulmate magic that made Izou so happy. It was fine. That was how he’d lived all his life. Closure on the whole situation wasn’t so bad.
He sighed again, and Izou’s arms twitched in a valiant effort not to strangle him.
A knock on the door saved Marco.
“Come in,” Izou called, and the door opened to reveal Ace of all people. Well, there went Marco’s plan to just hide in here until Ace and his crew were gone.
Ace looked between both of them for a second, until his gaze settled on Marco. “Um, Thatch said you were probably here. Can we talk…?”
“Yes, of course,” Izou answered before Marco could even hope to formulate a thought. He jumped up and made his way towards Ace still awkwardly standing in the doorway without having to be asked. “Feel free to take as much time as you need. My bed is off-limits, though.” And with that, he was out of the door. Marco threw the crumpled paper after him for that last comment, but Izou closed the door before it could hit him.
An awkward silence fell between the two who were left, Ace fiddling with the strings from his hat.
“Go sit down.” If they were going to talk, at least they should be somewhat comfortable. Besides, Marco was hoping this wouldn’t just be a quick repeat of their last talk three days ago, but something… more. Even if he wasn’t sure what that more would be.
Ace looked around the room, his eyes landing on the bed, the only available seating option besides the desk chair Marco was currently occupying. “But he said-“
“He meant we’re not supposed to fuck on his bed. Which I don’t plan on doing. Sit down.”
Still not looking entirely convinced, Ace did move to sit down. “Why does he think we’d fuck? What the hell did you tell him?”
“Nothing.” For fuck’s sake, this talk was not starting well. Marco would kick Izou’s ass later. “He just had a huge fight with his soulmate when they first met, and then they were fucking literally three days later. But we really don’t need to follow their relationship model.” It had worked out for Izou and Thatch, but somehow Marco doubted this could be solved with a good fuck. Not that Marco would say no if Ace offered, but… it was probably better not to.
“Yeah.”
Once again, silence. Terribly awkward silence.
Ace had been the one coming here to talk, so Marco had kind of assumed he had something to say, but he was looking pretty lost.
Despite everything, Marco felt bad for him. Even with Ace putting up a strong front whenever he thought someone was looking, Marco was aware he hadn’t exactly had a great few months. Mostly due to his own stubbornness, but still. He’d been struggling, and only been offered help from people he couldn’t accept it from for whatever reason.
“So did you change your mind? Or did you just come here to clear things up before you leave?”
“I don’t know.” Ace looked absolutely miserable as he admitted that. “I talked to Po- Whitebeard and I guess I don’t really have a reason not to stay anymore, but… I don’t know.”
Marco definitely picked up on that little slip-up there. Leave it to Pops to get to even the most stubborn ones. “Well, you still have time to decide, we’ll be here a couple of days.” They had to restock, and deal with a small pirate base on the other side of the island that the townspeople had asked them for help with.
Ace nodded. He looked up at Marco, bit his lip, then averted his eyes again. “Can I ask you a completely random question?”
Somehow, Marco doubted it would be completely random. “Sure,” he agreed regardless.
“What would you do if Gold Roger had a child?”
Alright, that actually was pretty random. He’d never even thought about it. “Uh, I don’t know? I guess it would depend on what they’re like. If they wanted to, I could tell them some stories or bring them to Rayleigh or Shanks if they don’t already know them. Why?”
“You wouldn’t hate them?”
“No? Not unless they’re a shitty person or something.”
“And if you were stuck with them as your soulmate?”
Oh.
Oh.
Now the question made sense. Marco looked into the freckled face in front of him, trying to find a resemblance to the man he’d met all those years ago, but other than maybe the hair, there wasn’t much.
Still, it was the only conclusion that made sense.
Marco smiled, hoping it would reassure Ace a little. “Then I’d probably count myself lucky Roger’s dead, so every tiny little disagreement I have with my soulmate doesn’t end up with him and Pops destroying an entire island in our stead.”
“That’s it? You wouldn’t mind?”
There was still so much insecurity in Ace’ voice, Marco simply couldn’t keep sitting still anymore. He stood up, walked over to Ace, and knelt down in front of him. It was purely on instinct, but he reached out for Ace’ right hand, wrapping both of his own around it. “No. I believe in fate, Ace, but I don’t believe in magic. I want to get to know my soulmate. I want to understand my soulmate for who they truly are, not who they appear to be.”
“And if you still end up disappointed?”
“I can’t say for sure, of course, but I have a pretty good hunch that won’t happen.” He rubbed his thumb over the leather of Ace’s glove. “Will you let me try?”
Ace didn’t answer immediately, but Marco waited patiently. This wasn’t the kind of thing you could rush.
Then, Ace pulled his hand away.
Marco’s heart sank, until he noticed that Ace had done it to peel off his glove.
Underneath it, a phoenix marked pale skin.
That was it. His own symbol, marking Ace as his fated person. Reverently, Marco reached out to brush his fingertips over it. Sparks of fire sprung from the touch, blue and orange alike, a hypnotic dance of flames completely out of either of their control.
“It’s beautiful,” Marco whispered.
This felt right. More right than Marco could’ve ever expected, more right than he’d ever felt before. He could only hope Ace felt exactly the same right now.
He looked up into Ace’ face, and saw a gentle smile completely unlike Marco had ever seen on him. He liked the change.
“Yeah,” Ace agreed, looking directly at Marco rather than their hands, and then he leaned forward to gently press their lips together.
Marco, like an idiot, startled, and Ace quickly pulled back. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but Marco shook his head.
“You don’t have to be.” He leaned forward as well, pressing a gentle kiss to Ace’ cheek. “Let’s just take it slow. We have all the time in the world, no need to rush. No need to tempt fate, don’t you agree?”
“Fate can suck it. I’ll make this mark mean whatever I want it to.”
Marco laughed, an ugly snort that he usually had to be piss-drunk to produce, but he felt similarly light-headed right now.
Years later, he’d identify this as the moment he first fell in love with Ace.